I feel like crap. Sore throat, couldn"t sleep, muscle aches.
Hopefully its just viral and will die down soon.
So I"m taking the afternoon off. I"m going to make myself a nice yummy lunch and have a nice long sleep.
I managed to go to ward rounds this morning, which was good fun because it seems like half the patients are being discharged today. Unfortunately we had a MDT (multi-disciplinary team) meeting today and from lack of seats, I was seated in the front row, alongside all the consultants and senior consultants.
If you haven"t been to an MDT meeting before, picture this:
A nice quiet room, the soft hum of a computer and projector, main lights are off and instead you bask in the nice warm glow of a projected contrast CT image of a patient"s lower abdomen. Beside that is a large LCD screen displaying a beautifully colourful slide, a slice of the vague metastatic growth from said abdomen.
As the drone of the radiologist slowly relaxes you, you fight.
You fight with all your will because you know the consultants have to turn to look past you in order to make eye contact with the radiologist, for politeness" sake, as well as to get his attention to ask questions, or he may go on forever.
Suddenly, out booms the voice of a certain anatomist/histologist we shall call "TT". His golden voice rings throughout the room, conjuring to mind a majestic and brave lion or perhaps an overly tanned well build older man.
"Yes!" you think to yourself, "I can"t possibly fall asleep with him talking!" But as your eyes droop, you realise far too late that histology is and has always been a trap. Luring you in with pretty colours and golden voices, it takes you and leads you, like a child, with wide eyes questioning all. But just like a child, you grow weary of such opulence, not understanding the point behind it all. Your eyes close, you sleep. Until the new day dawns.
Or at least until you start driving a pen into your leg because you really, really, really don"t want to be falling asleep in front of everyone. Really.